


You Never Doubted Me (My Warped Opinions)

by WhoopsImASinner



Category: The Walking Dead & Related Fandoms, The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, First Time, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Past Child Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Slow Burn, daryl is very hurt and confused, jesus is pretty okay at helping him
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-10
Updated: 2017-04-16
Packaged: 2018-10-17 09:19:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10591026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhoopsImASinner/pseuds/WhoopsImASinner
Summary: Daryl's used to going it alone. He's never needed anyone, and being locked up in the Sanctuary sure as shit didn't change anything. Now all he needs to do is convince Paul Rovia of that.Starting right after Daryl escapes from the Saviours. Slow burn.





	1. Chapter 1

The walker in the middle of the road came out of nowhere. Nevermind that Daryl was driving eighty miles an hour when normally he wouldn’t dare go faster than sixty, or that he never ever would have taken a blind turn at anything more than forty. 

The motorcycle had been roaring between Daryl’s thighs. It was almost loud enough to drown out his pounding heart. The trembling engine nearly masked his shaking hands.

He was too aware of Paul’s chest pressed against his back. He wanted to turn around and snap at him, tell him to back the fuck off. Common sense reigned though. If Paul moved any farther away on the seat cushion he’d fall right into the road.

Daryl had taken a deep breath and willed his nerves to calm down. He couldn’t help thinking that the Saviours had probably already noticed he was gone. They might have even found Fat Joey by now. Maybe they were hot on Daryl and Paul’s trail. Daryl refused to glance over his shoulder at the pavement disappearing behind them. Maybe they were up around the bend, a trap.

He hadn’t been this afraid in the compound. The routine had been all too familiar. On the third night, he had felt like Merle might as well have been sat beside him. Just like old times, he would have said. Poor little Darlina, beaten and all alone in the dark. 

Not anymore. His motorcycle was a reminder of the present, as was Paul at his back. Daryl had been driving too fast, trying to escape Merle, the Sanctuary, the Saviors.

If they had been in a car, the walker wouldn’t have been a problem. It was half crushed already, its spine pressed flat against the asphalt. In a car, Daryl would have careened over its head and felt some small satisfaction in hearing its skull crunch.

They weren’t in a car though. Daryl heard Paul’s alarmed cry. He jerked the handlebars and felt the bike shudder. For a brief moment, Daryl actually thought that was it. He had escaped the Saviors only to wind up a highway pancake. Worse, he was taking Paul down with him.

Then, Paul threw his weight opposite to Daryl’s. The bike wobbled violently, but it held. They slid to a stop not a hundred feet from the walker.

“Daryl,” Paul said, but he didn’t continue. Daryl could feel Paul’s arms spasming around his stomach, like Paul was unsure whether he should cling tight or completely let go. “Daryl,” he said again.

Daryl lurched to the side, the acrid taste of bile suddenly strong in his mouth. He spit on the ground, once, twice, and then the vomit came out, splattering up at his pants’ legs. Paul’s legs twitched, but he didn’t move them away.

“Let me drive,” said Paul. Daryl could hear the groans of walkers coming from the forest around them.

“I’m fine,” said Daryl. He shrugged his shoulders, the weight of Paul against his back making him itch.

“You’re exhausted,” Paul replied. “I’m not asking. Let me drive.”

Daryl nearly laughed. “Jesus is gonna take the wheel, is that it?” His hands wouldn’t stop shaking. The trembling was radiating outwards. He could feel the muscles in his back bunching and twitching.

Paul snorted. “Yeah, he is. Get up.” Briefly, Daryl considered hitting him, pushing him off the back of the bike just to see him sprawl on his back. Seeing the look of shock on Paul’s face would be a reward in and of itself, but knowing him, he’d probably find a way to dodge Daryl’s punch. He probably could already tell Daryl was winding up to smack him.

With a grunt, he slid off the bike. He could feel Paul’s eyes on him as he stalked away, but he made no move to stop Daryl. The walk back to the walker only took him a few minutes. Stomping it to death took longer.

He half-expected Paul to come up behind him, ask him again if they could get going, but when Daryl looked over his shoulder he saw that Paul was still sitting on the bike up the road, just watching him. Daryl’s hands wouldn’t stop fucking shaking. He sat down beside the corpse, wishing he had a cigarette to calm himself down.

After a few minutes, Daryl heard the motorcycle’s engine sputter to life. Paul pulled up alongside of him. “We can stay here for a little while longer,” he said, looking down the road instead of at Daryl. “But at some point they’re going to send people out looking for you.”

“I’d rather not be here when that happens,” Paul continued. “I think the same goes for you.” He held out a hand.

Daryl glanced at it, and pushed himself up off the ground instead. He settled onto the bike behind Paul.

“Okay, let’s go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you guys think. This was just a bit of an intro chapter but I've mapped out the story and I'm feeling pretty confident in it.


	2. Chapter 2

“Leave it in the forest,” Daryl said, looking down at the bike. “Cover it with some brush. If they find it they’ll just think I took off.”

“Hilltop’s only about a mile or two away, they might go looking for you there,” Paul said. “There’s a river a few miles out from here. We could sink it.”

It was a fair point.The bike was an unnecessary risk to take, and it wouldn’t just be putting him in danger. Standing there in the lumpy sweatsuit that the Saviours had put on him though, Daryl couldn’t bear the thought of it being taken away.

“We can take it deeper into the forest,” Daryl said gruffly. “Not like they’re gonna comb through the woods for it.”

Briefly, Paul looked like he might argue. Something in Daryl’s eyes must have swayed him, because instead he just nodded.

They buried it under enough brush that the Saviours probably wouldn’t even recognize it if they did find it. Back by the side of the road, Daryl rearranged some rocks. Nobody passing by would notice a thing, but he’d be able to find the bike again. It would be pretty messed up if he left it out here for too long, but he could fix it. It wasn’t gone.

The walk to Hilltop normally wouldn’t bother him, but today it was gruelling. The sun was hanging low in the sky, casting the road in red. Daryl’s sweater clung to his back, itchy and irritating. His body ached.

Paul broke the silence after several minutes. “You can crash on my couch. Maggie and Sasha have been staying in my living room, but Enid showed up the other day so they’re going to move into their own room in the mansion.”

Daryl stumbled over his feet, his heart jumping. “Maggie?” he said, his voice tight. “She’s okay?”

Daryl knew that no matter Paul’s response, she wasn’t. For a moment, he couldn’t keep walking, too overwhelmed by the grief he felt remembering Glenn’s smile. He forced himself to breathe. Nothing he felt could compare to Maggie’s pain.

“Yeah,” Paul said. “Yeah, Dr. Carson looked her over, she’s fine. The baby’s fine. Sorry, I should have told you earlier.”

Daryl blinked rapidly. “Rick said- he told Negan she had died. I thought maybe he was lying, but I didn’t-,” he swallowed hard, his words bitten off. “It’s good she’s okay.”.

* * *

 The gates weren’t even fully open before Maggie was rushing out. “Daryl,” she said, her arms already outstretched.

He couldn’t hold back his flinch. In his mind, Glenn’s hand lay twitching in the dirt. Daryl’s arms broke out in goosebumps as he heard Maggie’s wails. He felt sick.

Maggie’s hands flitted away like a pair of startled rabbits, her face losing some of its cheer. She didn’t move away though. “I’m so glad you’re alright,” she said.

He ducked his head, unable to look her in the eye. Shame welled in his chest.

He was spared from speaking by Gregory, who was following closely behind her.

“Jesus!” exclaimed Gregory. “So good to see you back, and with a friend too.” His voice was sickly sweet, and Daryl could hear the accusation behind it. Gregory wasn’t happy to have another Alexandrian at the Hilltop.

“Good to be back,” said Paul, with a hint of steel in his voice. “But we can chat later Gregory. Daryl needs some rest.”

Gregory smile dimmed for a second, no doubt put off by the Paul’s rebuke. However, he regained his footing, grinning even wider. “Of course,” he said, “You’ll come around later though. I’ve been wanting to talk to you.”

“Yeah,” Paul agreed, although it wasn’t a question. “Come on,” he said to Daryl and Maggie.

Once they were out of earshot, Maggie turned to Paul. “He wants us gone, Jesus. He basically said as much while you were away.”

Paul’s mouth was set in a hard line. “I know, I’ll talk to him. He’s just worried about what the Saviours will do if they find you guys.”

“Scared shitless, more like,” Daryl muttered. Paul defending Gregory rubbed him the wrong way. Daryl didn’t understand how anyone could let such a coward control Hilltop.

Paul looked at him sharply. “We’ve lost people too,” he said. “Gregory’s allowed to be scared.”

The fight drained out of Daryl. Paul was wrong, Gregory wasn’t allowed to be scared if he was going to keep this community safe, but Daryl didn’t want to argue about it. He was too aware of Maggie beside him.

“Sasha and I, we’re helping Hilltop. I’ve been setting up a garden. Sasha’s been going on runs. And Daryl’s the best hunter I’ve ever known,” she said, turning to look at Daryl as she did. “We just have to make him understand that.”

“Easier said than done,” Paul said.

Maggie scoffed. “The supplies here are running low,” she said to Daryl, “especially with the Saviours taking their cut. Maybe Sasha and I can go on an overnight run, get something big for the community. If we can win everyone else over, we don’t need Gregory to like us being here.”

Paul started up the steps to his trailer. “You shouldn’t go out on a run, Maggie. We need you here.”

Maggie bristled at that, stepping past Paul into the trailer. “I’ve been out there probably more than you have, Jesus.”

Daryl stepped inside too. The trailer was sparsely furnished. A couch sat opposite the door, and a table with four chairs was by the kitchenette. He could see the doors leading to the bathroom and bedroom, presumably, but they were closed. There was a low coffee table, and a few lamps. No decorations, and the only possessions Daryl saw lying around were obviously Sasha and Maggie’s.

“Where’s Sasha and Enid?” asked Paul, ignoring Maggie’s comment.

“They’re helping with dinner,” Maggie replied, then she sighed. “I don’t mean to get angry with you, Lord knows you’ve done enough for us. I just don’t like the way Gregory’s been looking at us. It’s like he’s… planning something.”

There was a beat of silence. “I can go on the run,” offered Daryl, even though all he wanted to do was sleep for a year.

Maggie didn’t looked convinced. “You need to rest, and the Saviours are out there looking for you. It’s not safe.”

Daryl opened his mouth to argue, but Paul cut him off. “We don’t need to decide who’s going this second,” he said firmly.

Inwardly, Daryl was relieved. Talking to Maggie twisted his stomach into knots. Every time she looked at him, he felt the accusation on her lips. He had killed Glenn. They both knew it.

He looked around, desperate for an escape.

“You got a bathroom?” He asked.

“Through the door on the left,” Paul said, pointing. “I’ve got a working shower too, if you want to clean up.”

Daryl was already moving, glad for the excuse to stay away even longer.

* * *

 When Daryl woke up, the sun was just cresting the horizon. The trailer was cool and quiet, save for Paul’s light snoring coming from the bedroom.

Daryl pulled himself off the couch, ignoring how his muscles groaned in response. He was hungry, his empty stomach had finally caught up to him, but helping himself to any of Paul’s food was far too invasive. Daryl was hit by a hard flash of longing for Alexandria, where he would have just wandered over to Rick’s or the stock room. He missed home.

Not that Paul hadn’t done his best to make Daryl comfortable. Paul and Maggie had gone off to dinner without him last night, on his insistence, but evidently not before Paul had dug out some fresh clothes for Daryl and left them by the bathroom door. Daryl had expected the shirt to not fit, but it had slipped on easily. He wondered whether it belonged to someone else at Hilltop, or if Paul just enjoyed wearing baggy clothes.

Daryl peered out the window. Paul’s trailer sat closest to the mansion, maybe because Gregory relied on him so much. Paul must have been one of the first people in the Hilltop, to have this trailer.

Outside, no one was moving around just yet. Daryl opened the trailer door and stepped into the morning air. The grass was wet with dew.

He wandered over to the fence line closest to Paul’s trailer and started walking the perimeter. If anyone looked outside at that time, they might have thought that Daryl looked like a caged animal, pacing the edges of its cell. They wouldn’t be too far off the mark. Daryl was itching to go out and hunt.

There was a large garden in between Paul’s trailer and the mansion. Daryl snagged a tomato off of one of the plants and bit into it. It was underripe, but it tasted like heaven compared to the dog food he had been fed at the Sanctuary. He grabbed another before going on his way.

The mansion itself was impressive. Daryl wondered how many of the bedrooms were occupied inside it. The Hilltop wasn’t nearly as big as Alexandria, but it was possible that they actually had more people, depending on how they were using their space. How many of them could fight, though? From what Daryl understood, most of the Hilltop survivors had been inside these walls since the beginning.

He had reached the end of one side of the fence, and he turned to continue his perimeter sweep. The sight of the crosses made him step back involuntarily.

There were just two. Daryl approached them slowly, hoping that maybe they belonged to someone else, but he knew the truth. Closer, he could see their names etched into the wood.

He walked towards them like they were pulling him along. His hands were cold and clammy.  
The grief that wracked through his body was sudden and harsh. A thick, keening noise tumbled from his mouth, and his knees gave out. He covered his face with his hand and curled in on himself, as if to shield his crying from the eyes of ghosts.

He wasn’t sure how long he stayed there, pressed into the dirt. His muscles were cramped, and his eyes burned. He wished he could lie there forever. His chest felt hollowed out, like there wasn’t a piece of him left inside.

They were gone, and they had taken Daryl with them.

* * *

 “It’s weird, them being buried here,” Maggie said. Daryl startled badly, dropping the flowers he had gathered rather abruptly on Abraham’s grave. “They should have been at Alexandria.”

Daryl looked over at her quickly, feeling like an intruder. “I’m glad he’s here though,” Maggie continued. “I couldn’t do it without him.”

“Yeah,” Daryl croaked out, his discomfort enveloping him like a glove. Sasha rounded the corner, holding her own collection of flowers.

“Daryl! How are you?” she asked.

Daryl rubbed at his face, already wanting an out from this conversation. “I’m good,” he said, unconvincingly. He moved to walk past them.

“You don’t have to go,” said Sasha, reaching out towards him.

Daryl sidestepped her. “I told Jesus I’d help him him with something,” he muttered, not looking her in the eyes. “Sorry.”

He hurried off, too aware of two sets of eyes following his movement.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed! I've started a tumblr under the same name as my username - [whoopsimasinner.tumblr.com](http://www.whoopsimasinner.tumblr.com) \- and I'd love if you guys would come say hi. I haven't been on tumblr in well over a year and this blog is brand new, so I have no clue who to follow in TWD/Desus fandom.
> 
> Let me know what you thought of this chapter :) I really appreciate any feedback. 
> 
> Fun note: I listened to Famous Blue Raincoat by Leonard Cohen quite a few times while writing this chapter.


End file.
